


Quiet, Just For A Moment

by liese_l, one_golden_sun



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Bondage, Boot Worship, Cock & Ball Torture, Consensual Non-Consent, Crying, Dom Drop, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Gunplay, Little Space, M/M, Military Kink, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Spanking, Sub Drop, Verbal Humiliation, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9610577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liese_l/pseuds/liese_l, https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_golden_sun/pseuds/one_golden_sun
Summary: Alex, John and Lafayette engage in a Revolutionary War role play.





	

Thank god for the unseasonably warm winter. John's footsteps crunched over the carpet of leaves in the woods. Here in the shade, it was still colder than John liked, but at least there wasn't any snow. That bitter February wind he was still growing used to was muffled by the trees. Honestly, he wasn't really sure what to be doing with himself other than wandering, waiting either for Alex or Lafayette to find him. That was the only instructions he had been given, aside from the British officer’s redcoat uniform he wore.

“No wonder they lost the war,” John grumbled to himself. “Kinda hard to hide in this damn color.”

John was no history buff, that was more Alex's lane. This was Alex's oddly specific fantasy to begin with, one that Lafayette and John agreed to fulfill, albeit Laf more enthusiastically than John. Easy for him, John thought. Lafayette didn't have to play Alex's unwilling victim. And Alex was sure to be in rare form, sharp and mean. John was prepared to return it in kind, to fight back and be difficult.

Finally, two pairs of footsteps, and two voices. John paused, listened. The voices were coming from behind him, somewhere to the right. As silently as he could, given the carpet of crunching leaves, John crept behind a nearby tree and crouched at its base, flattened himself against the trunk and listened.

“Did you hear something?” It was Lafayette’s voice, more accented than usual. Playing it up for the role, John guessed.

“Shh.” That was Alex, a sharp hiss that cut through the cold air.

“It is probably just a squirrel, or--”

“Shh!”

John froze, a spike of genuine fear shooting through him. It was ridiculous, to be scared when he was play-acting like a little kid. But the adrenaline rush was real, and he felt himself breathing harder, growing warm. He edged around the tree, risked a glance. They were closer than he’d thought, were clearly much better at sneaking their way across the forest floor. They hadn’t noticed him yet, but they would if he didn’t move. John looked around, tried to see if there were enough trees close by that he could sneak and hide. But no, they were too far apart, and with Alex and Laf’s closeness, and the leaves, he’d be noticed. Best thing, he figured, would be to edge around his current tree, always staying outside of their field of vision until they passed far enough that he could make a run for it.

“There,” he heard Alex whisper, voice shockingly close in the stillness of the woods. The crunching of their footsteps was almost unbearably loud as they approached his hiding spot, and John had no choice but to run. He got a foot up against the trunk, used it to propel himself into a sprint.

“I knew it!” Alex shrieked, and then they were after him. The sounds of their boots slamming against the dirt was muffled by the trees, but John felt like the sounds were echoing all around him. Everything was a blur of dulled winter colours, bare tree branches and heavy breathing. He had to actively remind himself that he was _supposed_ to get caught, and he forced himself to slow down, acted like he was getting out of breath.

It paid off, as a moment later Alex crashed into him like a bullet, knocking him to the ground. John shouted, scrapped against him in a flurry of red and blue, but then there was a click, and there was a fucking _gun_ , a fucking Colonial era pistol, pointed at his head. Only the orange cap that signalled it was fake stopped John from screaming red.

Alex took advantage of John’s shock to roll him over and dig his knee into the small of his back.

“Fuck,” Alex growled, his voice gravelly from the cool air. “And here we thought we’d gotten a fucking dead-end patrolling job. But there was one of you fucks out here after all.”

John said nothing, just gritted his teeth and made his body as heavy as possible, digging his fingers into the dirt.

“What? Nothing to say?” Alex sneered.

“Ah, he is a pampered British boy. Not used to having to run for his life,” Laf said, managing to keep his voice icy and calm. “He is still catching his breath, I imagine.”

“Fuck you,” John spat, tried to shake Alex off. But Laf tutted at him, tapped the gun against the back of his skull.

“I have no qualms blowing your brains out right here. But that would be quite a waste of potential information, non? So get up nicely for us, and we can all get out of this cold, hm?”

John let Alex gather his hands behind his back, his grip vice-tight. John was unceremoniously hauled to his feet, and with Laf pointing the fake gun to his head, they frogmarched him back to their rented cabin. How Laf and Alex knew the way back without consulting their phones was a mystery, but John went with it.

The cabin was dark, and little chilly. “There’s rope in my rucksack,” Alex said nonchalantly. “Why don’t you get our guest nice and comfortable while I see about getting a fucking fire started. It’s cold as a witch’s teat in here.”

“Oh, um.” Lafayette hesitated. John wasn’t sure if this was Laf, or the character, but what he said next made sense for either incarnation. “I am not so sure, you mean to me to, um bind him? I am not so good at this.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Never trussed up a pig? It’s not that much different.” Lafayette shook head, wide eyed. “Damn. Ok. Give me just a moment, can you hold him? There’s a good lad.” Alex leaned in close to John. “You’ll have to forgive my friend here, he’s not used to roughing it. Of course, you’d probably know all about that.” He eyed John’s coat with distaste. John narrowed his eyes.

“Do not talk to me as if we were friends,” he said, slow to try and get the accent right. “I generally don’t associate with barbarians and traitors.”

Instead of looking offended by John’s insult, Alex whooped with laughter. “Got ourselves a little British spitfire here!” he crowed gleefully. “Oh, you are going to be a fun one. My god, a barbarian am I?” Alex continued to chortle, left Lafayette to hold John while he busied himself in front of the fireplace. He took longer than necessary, considering the thing was gas and took just the flip of a switch, but John supposed it was necessary to keep up the illusion of authenticity, as well as let moment stretch suspensefully.

With the fire finally roaring in the grate, the room was brighter, warmer. Alex sighed with the warmth, turned back to John, still being held awkwardly by Lafayette. “Right then,” Alex said. “I hate looking at this damned uniform, so I’m thinking we--” John flinched as Alex roughly plucked off one of the gold buttons. “--Get rid of it?”

Lafayette laughed in his ear. “I daresay you will not be as bold divested of your red?”

“I daresay he won’t be as bold, naked as jaybird and begging for mercy,” Alex added. Popped another button.

“I refuse to suffer this indignity--” John was cut off by Alex elbowing him in the ribs. Not enough to really hurt, but enough to surprise him, interrupt his protests.

“Oh, you can refuse all you like. It’ll just make it worse for you and more fun for us.” Along with Lafayette’s help, Alex wrestled him out of his coat, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor and stepping on it for good measure. “Much better. You know, Gil, outta that horrible coat he ain’t half bad looking.”

“Indeed,” said Lafayette. Shifted so Alex could unlace John’s breeches, pull off his boots. Made quick work of the rest of his clothes. When John tried to protest again, Alex tweaked one of his bare nipples, making him yelp in surprise.

“You colonists are uncivilized,” John sneered. “I cannot fathom why you would need me unclothed for a simple interrogation.”

“Then I suppose you are not using your imagination, my dear,” Alex said condescendingly. “Then again, you Brits aren’t exactly known for your elasticity of the mind.”

With John fully naked, Alex stalked off to his bag, came back with a long coil of their bondage rope. Of course. John was trying to figure out his next move, was honestly unable to fight back with the unyielding grip Lafayette had on him. If Alex was going to bust out his rope work skills, once he was tied up there really would only be one way out, which was to call a color. Despite knowing that, he still put up a perfunctory struggle as Alex advanced towards him with the rope.

John attempted to twist away, make it hard for Alex to wind the rope around him. Instead of Lafayette gripping him tighter, or wrestling him to the ground, there was the plastic click of the fake gun, its barrel pressed into the small of his back. “You must keep still, or else my finger may slip,” Lafayette said ominously.

John breathed hard, stilled. Stared wide-eyed at Laf, caught in that delicious place between fear and arousal. Laf, for his part, looked totally unaffected. His gaze was cold, distant. Clinical. John shuddered.

He tried to turn his head to look at Alex, who had managed to get behind him to wind the first length of rope around his elbows. John was silently glad that, while looking rough, the rope was actually soft hemp. The risk of rope burn was the one thing disliked about this kind of bondage.

Alex wound the rope around his elbows a few more times, then took the rope across his chest, at the top of his pecs. He pulled it back around, began doing something that felt like some kind of knot or weave, and already John felt trapped. His arms were pulled together behind him, pushing his chest out, and the one length of rope across his chest was enough to pin his arms to his sides. Then Alex was pulling the rope up around the back of his neck, making a kind of halter. A few more lengths around his lower arms, and then around his waist, and then Alex knotted it off, leaving him completely immobilized from his neck to his waist. At least Lafayette relaxed the gun behind him.

Next, Alex took a new length of rope, folded it in half, and brought it around John’s neck. His breath hitched, and Alex paused, said lowly, “Color?”

“Green,” John barely whispered, and Alex nodded, continued. He pulled the tail end of the rope through the loop, did a series of knots that John couldn’t look down enough to see. This tie took much less time than the rope binding his arms, and a few moments later Alex had him in a makeshift leash.

“Look at the pup,” Alex teased, his voice cold. Yanked on the neck lead, watching John stumble forward. “Figured this sorta thing would be easy for you, being the King’s lap dog and all.”

John bared his teeth, let out something between a hiss and a growl. He tried to ignore his rapidly stiffening erection, figured realistically his character would not actually be turned on by this scenario. “You cannot humiliate me, you traitors. You’ll be nothing but dirt beneath our boots when we crush this pathetic uprising of yours.”

Alex and Lafayette both giggled genuinely. “What?” John said, defensive. “I’m in character.”

“I’m sorry, minou,” Lafayette said, swallowing a chuckle. “You are always so hesitant at first, it is amusing to see you suddenly so serious.”

“Alex is literally talking like he’s from a period drama, come on!”

“It’s authentic,” Alex said smugly. John rolled his eyes.

“Can we keep going now?” John grumbled.

“Sure, sure,” Alex said. Without warning, he tugged on the leash, hard, making John trip forward. He was only stopped from landing on his shoulders with his ass in the air by Alex’s booted foot planted on his chest and pushing him back to a kneel.

“So,” Alex said casually. “I figure there are two ways we can do this. You can behave and tell us everything you know.” John glowered, and Alex chuckled. Mean and nasty where his previous giggling had been soft and fond.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” he continued. “So I suppose we shall have to... _encourage_ you to loosen your tongue, hmm?”

John grinned, all teeth and malice. “Do your fucking worst.”

Alex’s eyes glittered with the challenge. “Gil?” he called, not moving his gaze from John’s. “Could you fetch some of the candles? The ones by the window, perhaps?”

Lafayette rarely took orders from Alex, but John figured in the scene Alex outranked him. He holstered his prop pistol, stomped over the window. Returned with the aforementioned candles, which looked innocuous, but John knew they had ordered from some specialty shop. They would melt at a lower temperature, to avoid burns.

Alex took one of the candles from Laf, struck a match. There was a moment of tense silence while the three of them watched the flame flicker. Almost immediately, the top melted and the liquid pooled. After handing off the rope leash to Lafayette, Alex crouched next to John. “Hold him taut, Gil.” Held the candle aloft, a few inches above John’s chest. “Now, let’s start. We are already aware of the location of your encampment. However, I find it unusual that you would stray this far out. So, tell me, pup, where exactly were you headed?”

John set his jaw, glared steel at Alex. “Go to hell,” he snapped.

“Right then.” Alex titled the candle, and a stream of the melted blue wax dribbled off the candle, dripped in a splash across John’s chest. It was hotter than he expected, not enough to really burn, but enough to make him hiss in surprise. “Ready to talk?” Alex asked.

In defiance, John refused to answer.

Lafayette said something quickly in French. “Good thinking,” said Alex, and suddenly John was flat on the floor, facedown, Laf pinning him with one hand in between his shoulders. “I am going to repeat the question. Where were you going?”

“To rendezvous at a town called Fuck You,” John spat while stifling a giggle at how silly that sounded out loud. He was surprised Alex and Lafayette didn’t break, just felt a tightening of their grip on him.

“Right, remember, you’re doing this to yourself.” Searing sting on the small of his back. John bit on his tongue, willed himself silent. Alex moved the candle in a swirling trail, splashed the wax on his ass cheeks, the backs of his thighs. John managed to bite back his cries the whole time, until he felt fingers spreading his cheeks open. A moan of anticipation escaped his lips. “Look at your little pink whore’s ass. Color check?” Alex shot at him, same tone as his interrogation voice.

“Green. You’re a coward anyway,” John said.

“Why are you letting this trash speak to you in a such a way, sir?” Lafayette asked, and John had to actually fight his laughter. What in the world did Alex have to promise Laf to get to outrank him in the scene? Get him to call him sir? The thoughts were blasted right out of his brain as he felt the sizzle of wax directly on his asshole.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” John yelled, actually thrashed hard enough that he worked free of Lafayette’s hold on him. Laf was quick though, his hand shooting out to grab John by the hair and push him back down against the floor. John yelled wordlessly as another drop of hot wax splashed just above his hole, bucked his hips involuntarily, trying to get away.

“Change your mind yet?” Lafayette crooned above him, voice cutting like a knife through silk.

“Go to hell,” John panted.

Alex sighed behind him, like this was a chore.

“Look,” he drawled. “If you aren’t gonna be using that mouth for talking, guess we’re gonna have to use it for something else then.” He splashed a few more drops of the wax on the meat of John’s ass, making him squirm. “Help me get him on his knees, Laf.”

“You know,” Lafayette said silkily, “you may outrank me, but I suggest you watch how you continue to speak to me, order me about.” He shifted, pulled John up by his hair, ignored his yelps. “We are in America, home of the free, all equals, yes?”

“I am surprised someone high class such as yourself would let a commoner order you around,” John agreed.

Lafayette narrowed his eyes, studied John coldly. Drew back his hand and slapped John across the face. John was shocked, too shocked to really react. Lafayette always had a gentleness to him in a scene, even if he was in power or had the upper hand. To treat John with such callousness had him suddenly desperate, had him confused and ridiculously aroused.

“Fuck,” he heard Alex gasp behind him.

“Green,” John rasped, before either of them had the chance to ask. And then he spat. A glob of saliva hit Laf right beneath his eye. There was a long, tense moment before Lafayette slapped him again, backhanded him across the opposite cheek. John moaned, a low, feral sound that vibrated from his chest.

Lafayette pulled him backwards, until he was again lying on his back, his legs folded under him. Not comfortable, but a position he could manage, for a short while at least. He stared wide eyed at Laf as he unbuckled his belt, undid his breeches enough to get his cock free.

“Since your mouth does not appear to be good as anything but a hole, I shall treat it as such, yes?” Laf said, a dark undercurrent humming in his voice, and John melted. Felt himself shift, drop. He felt warm and liquid and electric.

John couldn’t bring himself to say anything, but his mouth dropped open instinctively, and Lafayette chuckled. Dark and mean.

“See, sir? These British dogs, they know their place eventually.”

“Jesus Christ,” Alex murmured. He took a breath, collected himself. “Well, carry on, then. You seem to know what you’re doing.”

A hand wound in his hair. John knew he was struggling with staying in character, because the sight of Lafayette with his feet planted, in that uniform, with just his hard dick out, had John feeling pliant and cooperative. Lafayette’s shoulders looked so broad, he was a vision of power and strength, and John wanted for nothing in that moment, nothing but for Laf to use him.

He didn’t have to wait long. Laf yanked him up, pulled him until his mouth was flush with Lafayette’s dick. “Open up. You were so eager a moment ago?” Without meeting his eyes, John parted his lips, poked his tongue out. Expected praise, felt slightly affronted when all that came was the press of his cock to his mouth. He accepted him, went to bob his head but was held still.

John wanted to be good, wanted to make his captor feel pleasure, felt the insatiable need to please. That golden glow inside him, that lovely wonderful feeling of being used. He snuck a look up at Lafayette, saw him gazing down with nothing but indifference on his face.

While Lafayette held his head still, he started to thrust, fucked his face. John worked to keep his mouth relaxed, to be as sweet and pliant as possible. So far gone, he hardly registered Alex’s hand between his legs, peeling the dried wax free. Barely noticed anything beyond a tag at his skin as Alex peeled the wax from the rest of his body. “Don’t get too carried away, there,” Alex said. “Save something for his arse.”

Hips stilled, held himself deep in John’s throat. “I hope his ass is better than his mouth,” Laf said, almost bored. “This is not doing much for me.”

A flash of hurt-tinged anger through John. He was being good, was doing exactly what they wanted, wasn’t fighting or arguing. And Lafayette was lying, John could taste his interest, his pre all over his tongue, the strength of his erection. Without thinking it through, he reacted immediately, dug his teeth into the flesh in his mouth. Not too hard, but hard enough to make Lafayette pull back in surprise, yell out in pain. “Fucking hell!” he roared, throwing John to the ground where he landed with a thud. “The little slut bit me!”

“Oh sweetheart,” Alex said, cold as ice. “That was absolutely, completely stupid. Like, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Fuck...off…” John panted, tried to squirm into a less vulnerable position, was stopped by the heel of a boot on his lower back. The plastic tip of something, hard and pushy, jabbed into one of his ass cheeks.

“Hold still, princess,” Alex growled. “I’d hate for my finger to slip on this trigger. Ruin that sweet little arse of yours before we get a chance with it.” A hand joined the fake gun, squeezing one cheek, kneading and appreciating the toned muscle there. “Perhaps this is how the little whelp even earned his fancy red coat,” Alex continued. The push of the plastic in the crack of his ass. “You let your officers do this too? Play with your tight little slut hole? Hell, I’d bet a whore like you would bend over for King George himself.”

“You aren’t fit to even lick his highness’s boots, let alone invoke his name with your low, commoner’s mouth, you scoundrel--” John’s last attempt at a tirade was cut short with a forceful pinch to the back of his thigh. He jerked, more in surprise than anything, and Lafayette laughed.

“Well done,” he said to Alex. “I was about to suggest gagging him, but that worked quite nicely.”

Alex pressed the tip of his water pistol right up against John’s hole, the plastic edges catching uncomfortably on his rim. “If we gag him, we won’t be able to hear him beg. What is the sport in that?”

“True,” Lafayette admitted. “But get on with it, will you? I am growing bored.”

“Patience, my French friend,” Alex said pompously. “Let me just get him ready, then he’s all yours.”

“Why bother?” Lafayette grumbled. “Must you prep him? I honestly do not care if it hurts…”

“Understandable, my dear. Trust me, this is for your enjoyment as well.” Alex laughed. “If this little lap dog has only had the king up there, lord knows it will be a struggle for him to take a prick as large as yours.”

The two of them talking about him like he wasn’t there. That golden glow of surrender, of floating, flooded him once again, had John feeling tingly and dreamy. His inhibitions evaporated, he actually lifted his hips into whatever Alex was holding against his ass… the gun? Yeah, the gun. He wanted it, wanted them, couldn’t they see it?

“God, what an absolute little tart, you see this?” Honestly, John had lost his words, he was desperate for them to get on with it. He wanted Lafayette to pay him back for the bite, to just brutalize him, rough him up so he could lose himself to the feeling of it. Tear him in half. Alex worked the tip of fake gun (perhaps a water pistol, John thought) in past his rim, let it sit there threateningly. He asked John a question, but John didn’t register what he was saying. Something mean, a threat for sure.

“Sorry?” John whispered.

“Not as sorry as you are about to be.” Another centimeter of the gun. “Final chance.”

The answer from John was no more than a garbled, incoherent moan. Another lift of his hips.

“He will not talk.” Lafayette’s long fingers in his hair, nails biting into his scalp. “He is either too stubborn or too stupid.”

“Ah well. Won’t talk, will you? Guess we’ll settle for screaming. Now. hold still, this might hurt.” John braced himself, heard a plastic click, expecting at least a pinch. Instead, wetness. Cold. What in the--?

Lafayette’s real laughter, ringing through the cabin. “You cannot be serious, mon chou.”

“What?” Alex asked defensively.

 

“I go out of my way, look far and wide, purchase an authentic replica, and all you do is pick up a cheap toy from a bodega, fill it with lube?”

“Look, it makes perfect sense, it’s serving a purpose--”

“Indeed.”

Alex and Lafayette continued to share their laughter, John just slipping further the longer he waited. Could feel the cool slick of the lube dripping down his crack, his balls. He whined, wiggled his hips to regain their attentions.

“Jack?” Alex began, and John returned with “Green, green, please keep going,” and they both laughed again at the absurdity of it. He didn’t care if they were laughing at him, he just wanted to someone to touch him. A blanket of chilling silence settled back over the three of them, Alex worked the tip of his water gun in and out of John’s hole, adding another squirt of lube. The wood of the floor against John’s cheek was growing uncomfortable.

“Are there not more efficient ways to accomplish that?” Lafayette criticized. “Your fingers perhaps?”

“And dirty them?” Alex scoffed. “I think not.”

“Well then, you take him first. Loosen him up for me.”

“With pleasure, my dear fellow.” Alex stood, brushed off his knees. “Help me get him over to the bed, then. I am not joining him on the floor like a dog.”

The rope lead around John’s neck tightened, and he was hauled up by his hair. He scrambled to get his footing, which seemed to matter not since they basically dragged him. Slammed his hips into the footboard, making his teeth clack. He dared not protest, since all he wanted was this. He was getting what he wanted. Finally.

Alex fed the neck lead through a decorative cut out in the wood of the headboard, pulled it tight and tied it off. While he checked the tension, assured that John couldn’t lay his face or torso down, Lafayette kneeled so he could lash both of his ankles to opposite corners of the foot board, pulling him into a tight, obscene V. Between those two points of tension and the restrictive elbow harness, he wasn’t going anywhere. Alex took hold of his hair, pulled his head back so he could see John’s face. He was flushed and there was the beginning of tears in his eyes, but before he could ask John assured him “green, god please keep going, please,” which made Alex laugh cruelly.

“Hope you’re ready for this,” he noted, rolling off the bed. He took his place behind John, finally undoing his own painfully tight pants. If Alex was being honest, the gun hadn’t really done much to stretch John, so he jabbed two fingers in. Enjoyed the sight of John’s back muscles tensing, along with the fact he couldn’t really move since the ropes held him still. It was quite beautiful. Silently, Alex praised his own handiwork.

While he scissored his fingers, Lafayette took his place on the bed, planted his boots on the duvet. Toyed with his pistol with his eyes on John, noting the vacant look in his eyes, that spaced out look as he drifted. He knew he had slipped, that between the ropes and their rough treatment he was under, was content to just float. Lafayette felt it might be best to give the poor thing something to focus on, to ground him. He crossed his legs, placed the toe of his boot right under John’s chin. Nudged so John had to meet his eyes.

“Do you see these boots, pup?” He spoke slowly, as if John struggled to discern his meaning. “These boots will crush both you and your king.”

“Yes,” John breathed, abandoning his role. He didn’t care. “I see them, sir.”

“Magnificent.” He played with his pistol, cocked it a few times, enjoying how John flinched with every click. “You should get used to them. Learn to love them.” Right then, Alex chose to press directly on his prostate, made his eyelashes flutter and his breath skip.

“I do,” John babbled. “I do love them.”

Carelessly, Lafayette cocked the gun once more. Pressed the muzzle right up to John’s’ temple. “Show me.”

Alex paused what he was doing to watch. Kept his fingers hooked inside John. Could see his lashes quivering from here, the blush competing with his freckles. Alex didn’t want to think too hard about what it said about him that he was so aroused by the image of his boyfriend, gun to his head, boot under his chin, strung up like a butterfly in a net, looking helpless and used. Then John lowered his eyes, brushed his lips to the leather, planted several closed mouth kisses up the shaft of the boot, as far as the ropes would let him move his head. The sight had Alex reeling, absolutely unable to take it any longer. Like John really was the enemy, and watching him unfold and submit made Alex feel powerful. Drunk on the notion. He lined up, took himself in hand and pushed in without warning, noting how John’s breath caught.

“Lord,” Alex groaned. Held himself in deep, clawed John’s hips. “Fuck. He’s tight as a miser.”

“Surprising,” Lafayette noted. John’s lips were still pressed to his boot. “A boy with his looks, a little whore like him, thought him loose and used up.”

“Quite the contrary.” Alex clenched his teeth, thrust slow. “Tight like a virgin on her wedding night.”

“You are treating him as gentle, too,” Lafayette criticized. “He is your enemy, Hamilton. Break him.”

“The French are always full of great ideas,” Alex said brightly. A hand on either cheek, spreading him wide, and Alex’s cock splitting him in two. “You continue to surprise me, pup,” he said. In, in deeper, held himself there and pulled back. Let the head of his dick catch on John’s rim. “Little rich boy. Not good enough for the king. I may despise the man, but I can’t blame him for not wanting to lay a hand on a dirty little thing like you.”

Lafayette fiddled with his gun again. Touched the muzzled to John’s cheek. “Tell us, little slut. Is this your first time?”

John panted, not sure what his character would say, not caring really. Distracted by the taste of leather, the bite of the gun on his face. Every click of the trigger. He whimpered, gnawed at Lafayette’s boot, made eyes at him. “Ruin my boots, you filthy fucking whore, and I will shoot you right in your dumb cum slut mouth.” Inched the gun closer to John’s lips.

“I’m sorry, forgive me sir, I’m so--” He was cut off from his apologies as Lafayette shoved the barrel of the gun right in his mouth, the muzzle hitting the back of his throat. He gagged, but had nowhere to go, the ropes holding him still, Alex’s dick pinning him in place.

“Give me a reason,” Lafayette said. The voice he was using was so cold, it was like hearing a stranger. John wished he could be embarrassed by how turned on he was, it was a rare thing to have both of them being so rough and cruel, but it was doing it for him in the moment. “Do you want to die with a peasant's dick up your ass, like a used up whore in the street?”

“Peasant?” Alex grouched. “I am offended, I am insulted, I am--”

“Do you not have a job at hand?” Lafayette interrupted. Carelessly, he pumped the gun back and forth in John’s mouth. “You are taking forever. I am growing impatient.”

“Rest your cock in his mouth then, if you can’t wait,” Alex suggested. Lafayette chuckled.

“And get bit again? I do not think so.”

“I doubt he’ll bite with your gun to his head.”

“Ingenious.” Now the gun was up against his jaw, wet with his saliva. He didn’t even need the threat of it, wouldn’t dream of biting Laf again. Not when John had slipped like this, nerves so loose it was like his bones had turned to jelly. All he wanted was to be good, he didn’t even care if they treated him nice or cruel. He’d take any touch at this point. “Did you hear him? Open up.”

The feeling of Lafayette’s cock in mouth was familiar and grounding. Suckling him soothed his nerves, anchored him. The harder Alex slammed into him, the further he sunk into his own head. Taste of flesh in his mouth, cold pressure of the gun to his jaw, and Alex so deep it stung. Time dissolved. It might have been five minutes, it might have been thirty. He and Laf continued to banter, and he was content to tune them out. Wet heat as Alex came, could feel it spilling out of his ass when he pulled out.

The gun and Lafayette’s cock were gone. His cock replaced Alex’s. He was thicker, and John moaned around the stretch, loved the feeling. Being used. If he could form words, he’d ask for more. Lafayette didn’t even allow him to adjust, just began railing him, hooked a hand into the ropes holding his arms and fucked him so hard it would bruise. John moaned brokenly, the sound almost a sob.

“How’s he feel?” Alex said. Sat on the side of the bed, still out of breath. Pat John mindlessly on the head. He preened under the attention.

“He is tight, as you say,” Lafayette said.

“Yeah,” Alex sighed. Tugged absently at John’s neck lead, watching him choke a little. “It’s a nice hole. Pretty thing, too.”

“And like most pretty things, quite useless,” Lafayette scoffed. “Apart from this, of course.”

“No wonder the poor thing got lost,” Alex continued. “Dumb, brainless, ornamental, stupid, stupid little fuck toy.”

John sobbed, keened, wished he could push back against Laf, take him deeper. Show them he was trying to be good. Trying to be useful for them.

“You’re lucky we didn’t shoot you in the woods where we found you. Found a use for you. You make an awful soldier. Shame none of your officers saw your potential for this. Lord, if they were wise, they’d have you strung up and bent over in one of their fancy tents, hole gaping and waiting. Perhaps you’d boost their morale enough, they could actually win a battle.”

“Alex,” John croaked. He needed more, needed attention. Needed something. Alex yanked his hair to silence him.

“Open your fucking mouth again, it better be to ask for cock, nothing more.” John’s whole body rocked in his bonds as Lafayette continued to pound him. “Do you like Major General Lafayette’s cock, pup?”

“Yes sir,” John moaned, the moan turning into a whine as Laf’s cock nicked his prostate.

“Tell him thank you, then. Dumb fuck toy.”

“Thank you,” John babbled. “Thank you for your cock, thank you sir.”

“Mmm,” Lafayette said. He snuck a hand around John’s hips, wrapped his hand around the hardness he found there. “And what do we have here?”

“Sir,” John cried. “Sir, please.”

“Ugh, what a slut,” Alex said in disgust. “Hard from this? God, how shameful. You are a little cock slut, good for nothing but taking dick.”

“Shame we will have to let him go after this,” Lafayette mused. “He does feel quite nice. Surprisingly so.”

“Let him go?” Alex laughed high and pretty. “Why in the world would we do that? We’re stuck here the rest of the winter. Might as well keep him here. He’ll look so sweet tied up in the corner, waiting for us. Lord, Laf, can you imagine. Using him so much his little ass, pink with it, ready and open any time?”

“Please,” John whimpered. He could see it clearly, wrists lashed to his ankles, ass in the air, waiting in the dark. His soldiers, his captors, his keepers stomping in from a day scouting in the woods, bringing in the scent of leaves and snow. The cold air on his ass. Taking turns with him.

“And the first thing I would do,” Lafayette said conversationally, paused his thrusting. “Lock that little prick of his up.”

Alex chortled. “Imagine how pliant he’d be then! Bet the dumb whore would do anything to get us to unlock his stupid cock.”

John shuddered, whined. He could feel himself getting close, his orgasm prickling under his skin. “Please, sir,” he begged.

“What are you begging for, slut?” Alex hissed. “Are you begging for us to keep you? Tied up and waiting to be used?”

“Yes, sir, please,” he gasped. He heard Laf swear, felt him shift the angle of his hips so he was hitting John’s prostate with every thrust. John wailed.

“Can I come, sir, please, please let me come,” he wailed, writhing against the ropes, sobbing again when they held fast.

“Why in the world would we let you do that?” Lafayette asked, somehow both taunting and sincere. “You have not given us one reason.”

“I’m good, I’m being good,” John provided “Please. I’ll stay, you can keep me, just let me--”

“You’re offering us something we already have,” Alex said with a bored yawn. “Try again.”

John whined, frustrated. “What do you want? What do I have to do to come?”

“Renounce the king,” Lafayette said simply. “Then we will consider.”

“Anything,” John gasped. “He’s not my king, I pledge my undying loyalty. You are my king, you are my ruler, and I your vassal.”

“I quite like that,” Lafayette admitted.

“As do I,” Alex added. “You gonna come inside of our whore?”

Instead of answering, Lafayette just fucked him harder, held him tight. It took only a few more pumps and he was spilling deep inside of John, adding to the mess of lube and Alex’s jizz. John couldn’t care less, he was going to finally get to come.

Lafayette took hardly thirty seconds, then he was barking orders to Alex in French. Alex snickered softly at whatever Lafayette told him to do. John’s ankles were untied and he was hoisted onto the bed. Alex slid under him, and miraculously his lips and hand were on his cock. John could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, of gratitude then frustration. Fingers wrapped at the base, mouth at the head, licking dainty. “Whore like you has no business tasting this sweet,” he remarked, and it sounded like such an ugly insult, John moaned.

“God, you are positively filthy,” Lafayette said, watching the mess leak out of John’s ass.

“Sorry,” John mewled. God, he was close, Alex was just teasing him, and he felt like he might tip over the edge any second. He was so caught up in what Alex was giving him, he hardly noticed Lafayette spreading his thighs a few inches wider. Lafayette tugged on his balls from behind, where they dangled unguarded. John figured it was a ploy to keep him from coming. Then, without warning, Lafayette landed an open handed smack right on his balls, and he jolted, yelped in surprise and pain. Laf tightened his grip, swatted him a second time while Alex sucked him harder.

Goddamn, this was doing things to him. It hurt, sure, but Lafayette knew how to land a hit safely. It was more humiliating than anything, his balls tugged up high and Lafayette spanking them. He wanted to cry out, could feel himself getting smaller, the waves of submission rolling over him. John wished fervently Laf was still hard, still fucking him, nothing could be better than being punished and spanked then used.

“You’re cruel,” Alex said with a laugh, as if pausing his own torment of John wasn’t torture as well.

“I do not forget,” Lafayette saide. “The little slut bit me, and it hurt. He needs to be reminded of his place.”

Alex hummed his agreement, snuck a hand around John’s backside and dipped a finger into his hole. There was so much sensation, John thought he might lose his mind completely. A few more spanks and John was begging, tears were falling.

“Daddy,” he whimpered. “Daddy, Daddy, please I need you, please Daddy.”

“He’s not your Daddy,” Alex said crisply. “He’s your King now.” Lafayette punctuated Alex’s declaration with one last well-placed spank to his balls, and along with Alex pushing on his prostate and playing with his dick, he came, hard enough for his vision to blow out. Hard enough for his heart to pound bitter in the back of this throat. Had the ropes and Lafayette not held him so tight, he would have collapsed, but all he could do was sort of sag in place, panting. Despite coming, they didn’t let him go, Lafayette continued to spank him and Alex stroked him.

“Daddy. Papi.” Tears flowing now, the good, bright warmth of pleasure flooding him. Overwhelming him. He wanted to be untied, he wanted to be held, he was done, so done, but he couldn’t find his words. When he tried to shift his hips, Lafayette just held his balls tighter, spanked him again, and he choked on his sob. He hung his head, realizing he deserved this. He was, after all, the enemy, and he bit Laf, what was he thinking? Suddenly, the floodgates opened, and he was weeping. “Please,” he wailed. “I’m bad, I’m a bad boy, I’m sorry!”

Lafayette halted his hand. “Little one, your color?” he said sharply. But John was crying too hard to answer. He simply continued to sob, blubbering incoherently about being bad. “Red!” Lafayette called, and Alex was out from under him in a flash. The knots were tight so he grabbed the safety scissors, passed them to Lafayette with slightly shaking hands while he undid the neck lead. John was crying so hard he was trembling, Lafayette had to be extremely careful as he cut through the ropes binding John’s arms.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Lafayette cursed himself. Didn’t even realize he was speaking in French. “ _This is not good, why did we not color check him more? I should have stopped pushing when he called me Daddy, this is bad…_ ”

“I need you to stop freaking out and help me,” Alex snapped. John was finally free of the bindings, and he collapsed face down, so still it was frightening. He wasn’t sure what was worse, John’s nonresponsiveness or Lafayette’s completely out of character panic. “Jack,” Alex said soothingly. “Sweetie, it’s ok…”

John shuddered, let out a tiny, heart-breaking sob.

*Oh, baby boy,” Alex said, stroking his hands through John’s hair. “You did so well, you were so good for us Jacky, so strong and brave.”

“D-don’t touch me,” John sobbed. “I’m dirty.”

“Laf? Baby? Could you go run the bath?” Alex asked, and Lafayette nodded, hurried off to the bathroom. Alex ignored the tears he’d seen forming in Laf’s eyes, didn't want to think about that just yet.

“Jacky,” Alex said softly. He’d removed his hands from his hair, rested them by John's head on the bed. “You're not bad. Not dirty. You're so good for us, baby boy. Daddy and Papi are so proud of you. You took so much for us. Our good boy.”

“I said don’t touch me,” John lamented, rolled away from Alex. Alex could feel the panic rising in his throat, between John rejecting him and Lafayette suddenly clueless. He didn’t dare go against John’s request, knew from experience the desire to be left alone after an intense scene, but this was so unlike John… He felt it wasn’t like that.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” Alex said, choking down the rising panic. “Why are you dirty?”

“You said so. Daddy said so. Dirty, bad...bad, disgusting whore. Filthy, nasty, worthless--” Damn it all, why did John have the memory of a parrot after a scene?

“We didn't mean those things, sweetie. We were playing pretend. We don't really think that, baby. I'm sorry we made you think we meant them.” They always walked a fine line with John’s humiliation kink, what could be erotic one second could be destructive in the next. He tired to continue to soothe, but John actually scooted off the bed, went the nearest corner, tucked himself into a ball and continued to sob, tore at his own hair.

“Laf!” Alex shouted. “Laf I need your help oh my god.”

The water shut off and Lafayette stumbled out of the bathroom. He had shed his costume, pulled on a pair of sleeping pants. He surveyed his boyfriends in the bedroom, seemed to take a breath to steel himself. Alex didn’t miss the reddening of his eyes. Walked over purposefully to John in the corner, scooped him up. Shushed him several times, then carried him to the bathroom. Alex lay in silence, tried to collect himself.

Then he heard John shrieking, and he was off like a shot.

The bathtub in the cabin was tiny, and John was in it alone, thrashing as if the water burned him. Laf was attempting to wipe his face with a washcloth, but John was flailing too hard. And then he was clambering out of the bathtub and dropping himself in Laf’s lap. He wrapped his arms around Laf, clinging like an octopus.

“Daddy!” he sobbed. “I don't wanna be alone!”

“You're not alone baby, we're both here,” Laf said softly.

“I don't wanna be in the water alone,” he whimpered. “I don't wanna float away.”

Lafayette looked at Alex pleadingly, clearly at a loss. John’s aftercare was generally so rudimentary, to have the very first step completely fucked up was throwing him for a loop. Alex tried to pull himself together, think of an alternative.

“Would you rather take a shower, sweetheart? We gotta clean you up before bed.”

John said nothing, continued to cry and shake.

“Come here, Laf,” Alex directed. This was so not his forte. “Get naked, bring him into the shower.” He stepped out of his own clothes.

“He does not like the shower,” Lafayette said slowly. “The water is too hard, too much…”

“Well, we will do our best.” Alex had Lafayette sit on the floor the shower stall, continue to hold John in his lap. John refused to look at either of them, tears still streaming down his face as he chewed at his cuticles. He flinched as Alex ran the water, but said nothing. “Here,” Alex said, shoving a dampened washcloth into Lafayette’s hands. “Help me.”

Lafayette sniffled, began swiping the cloth on John’s shoulders and back. Alex followed suit with John’s front, careful not to spray him directly with the water. He was receptive to the care, the only bad reaction when Alex, as quickly as he could, gently scrubbed between his legs.

“Slut hole,” he whispered. “Dirty.”

“Not true,” Alex said softly, leant forward to kiss John’s shoulder.

“True,” John whispered back.

“Well we made it clean now, hmm? You're all clean now baby boy.”

John quieted at that, relaxed ever so slightly. “Clean now,” he repeated.

“Yeah, baby. Clean now.” Alex nodded at Laf over John’s shoulder, and Laf shifted so he could hold John to his chest and stand. He carried John back to the bedroom, and Alex followed with a pile of towels. Alex dried off and got into a pair of soft pants and a baggy shirt while Laf dried John. They swapped so Laf could get a pair of dry pants, and Alex helped John into his own pyjamas; green and covered in dinosaurs.

Laf disappeared for a moment, but returned holding John’s stuffed turtle. John finally reacted to that, looked up at Laf all wide-eyed and cautious.

“Pokey?”

“Yes, little one,” Laf said. “Pokey is here to see you.”

John made grabby hands at Laf, and Laf’s lips quirked into a smile as he relinquished the turtle. John clung to it tight, like he was afraid it'd be snatched from him. He folded in on Pokey, his body wracked with sobs again. It broke their heart when he cried like that, he just looked so small.

Alex was suddenly exhausted, wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep, but clearly that was out of the question, not with John crying and Lafayette twisting the hem of his own t-shirt in his hands nervously, looking at Alex with confused and unsure eyes. Alex wanted to yell at him, shake him by the shoulders. Wanted him to get his act together and pick up the pieces of this mess like he always did.

“ _Help him!_ ” Alex said in French. When Lafayette looked at him blankly, Alex snapped his finger. “ _Don il un casse-croûte?!_ ”

“Ah, yes of course,” Lafayette said, still sounding in a daze. “Does my baby boy want a snack?”

John hardly heard him, he was crying so hard. He was stuck, he felt so lost. Why didn’t they understand how he felt, what he needed? He was stuck, stuck in the scene, stuck where they touched him in anger and told him he was good for just one thing. One part of his brain knew it wasn’t real, it was just play, but that dark, painful kernel of doubt, that ugly piece that could push all other thoughts away, snagged at him. A jagged shard of glass caught in his in heart. Nothing in his ears but the roaring echoes of their words, their rough hands. When he came, he had felt ugly, ugly and twisted and worthless, but he couldn’t quite explain it. He needed Lafayette to read him, to see what he needed, to run through their normal routine. Everything was wrong, and he couldn’t fix it alone.

With another hopeless look at Alex, Lafayette disappeared into the kitchen. Alex sat on the floor next to John, touched his shoulder. Was relieved he didn’t flinch at his hand. “Daddy is making you a snack, sweet thing,” he said, trying to emulate Lafayette’s deep and even tones. “You can bring Pokey.”

John nodded, let Alex pull him to his feet. They padded out into the kitchen, hand in hand. Lafayette, who was slumped over the counter, a bowl of Cheerios next to him, hardly looked up when they came in.

“Laf?” Alex said softly. “John’s ready for his snack.”

Lafayette straightened to his full height, quickly swiping under his eyes. Alex was shocked. He’d been crying? He picked up the bowl of cereal, went to the table. Surreptitiously, he wiped at his eyes again, catching a silent tear that spilt down his cheek. Alex clenched his fist to ground himself, then led John to the table.

“Papi?” John asked as he sat. “Why is Daddy crying?”

The question just made Lafayette cover his face. He didn’t want his boys seeing him like this, but he couldn’t help it. Why did he keep pushing? John had called him Daddy, had trusted him, and he had been so cold and brutal, so wrapped up in the character he’d fail to notice the signs, to predict how the scene would affect John. It was his job, that was his role, he’d gotten carried away, he’d let this happen, it was his fault John was crying and shaking and looking so little. He took a few slow breaths, willed his tears back. He needed to get himself together.

“Maybe,” Alex said carefully. “Daddy should sit down with you while you have your snack and he can talk to you about why he's crying.” He gave Laf a significant look.

Good. This was the in he needed. He took a seat across from them. A few more breaths. “I am crying because I feel bad. I am angry with myself. I should not have...not have…” He trailed off.

John held Pokey up to his face. Flapped his flippers. “Did I make Daddy upset?” he whispered.

“No!” Lafayette said, perhaps a bit too sharply. John flinched, so he softened his voice. “This is my fault. I am supposed to make sure, everything in the scene, all is well, and I did not. I was not careful enough. I hurt you, and that hurt me, to see you like this.” He looked up, trying to hold back the hot tears of guilt. “Please, John, tell me what did I do wrong?”

Listening, John’s face crumpled. “It,” he started. Sniffed. “It was. I liked it a lot but then, then it was too much. Too mean. I was being a good boy and no one noticed! I wanted you to tell me you liked that I was being good.”

“This is all true,” Lafayette said softly.

“No one said, ‘Jack is good, Jack feels good.’ I was a good boy, did what you asked, I know I made you feel good, but you didn’t say this, you were just mean. Like I was bad.” He considered his next words. “So if no one says I was good, that must mean I was a bad boy. I must be dirty and bad for you to be so mean.”

To Alex, this was starting to make sense. Lafayette was thinking through his words. At least they had both stopped crying. Alex cleared his throat.

“So, John, sweetie, if I’m hearing you correctly, we were a little too...bad cop bad cop? You needed one of us to be the good cop?”

“Sorta…” said John. “It was ok that Daddy was mad I bit him, because that was bad. But, when I was being good, no one told me, I still got spanked.”

“Next time, we will be more careful,” Lafayette said slowly. “We will tell you when you are being good.”

“Mmkay,” said John. “Am I being bad now?”

“Not at all, sweetie.”

“I was bad in the bath.”

“No, you were not bad, sweet thing. You were scared and did not want to be alone. I did not realize you would react badly to being alone in the bath. It is not your fault, little one.”

John nodded as if this made, at least, some sense. Alex felt himself relax slightly. “Do you want your Cheerios, baby boy? Do you want Papi or Daddy to feed you?”

“Daddy,” John said firmly. “Daddy always feeds me my snack.” Lafayette gave him a slightly shaky smile, picked up the spoon. Before he could give him a bit of cereal, however, John slid off his seat and climbed into Lafayette’s lap. Instantly, both of their body languages changed, became relaxed and familiar. At ease. Alex, too, finally relaxed.

Lafayette spooned a few bites of cereal into John’s mouth. “Do the airplane,” he requested. Grinned because he knew it was silly, but sweet regardless.

“Alright,” Lafayette agreed. “Just once though.”

Alex rolled his eyes and hid his smirk, knowing all too well how much Lafayette loved playing this role for John. Laf held the spoon about a foot away. “Here comes the airplane, prepared for landing!” John giggled, opened his mouth. “Nyoom!” Lafayette flew the spoon and deposited the bite. Immediately, John giggled again, knew it was absurd, but didn’t care. Spluttered Cheerios all over himself and the table.

Later, after everyone had eaten and they'd cleaned up and were finally in bed, John practically crawled up under Lafayette’s shirt, he craved the closeness so badly. Laf indulged him, tucked him as tightly as possible against his chest. Though he knew it would lose him deeper sleep, Alex curled up close as well, wrapped his arms around John from behind. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

John tipped his head back, kissed Alex on his jaw. “Mmm. I’m ok,” he said. Something worrisome passed over his face. “Sometimes. I can’t help but feel.” He shuddered. “Am I enough?”

“Oh, baby boy,” Alex said sadly. “Yes, you are. You are enough. You are more than enough.”

“Even when I get all… weird and small?”

“First of all, you're fucking adorable when you're small. Secondly, yes, you are enough. Always, okay?” Alex reached his foot around John, poked Lafayette in the calf with his toe. Needed him to join in.

Laf chose his words carefully. “John. My treasure, my heart. We keep you here, with us. We love you because you are special. And, forgive me, when you came into our lives, it made me love Alexander even more. You are like, flowers. You can have a room without flowers, but flowers make it brighter, more lively and homey.”

“Flowers?” John repeated. “I’m flowers?”

Alex squeezed him again, laughed in his ear, making his curls flutter. “Our pretty, freckled sunflower.”

“That’s pretty corny,” John pointed out. But he smiled regardless., cuddled closer to both of his men. If he was their flower, then they were his sun and air. Feeling nourished, he was finally able to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Find us on tumblr:
> 
>  
> 
> [@liese-l](https://liese-l.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [@likearootlesstree](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/likearootlesstree)


End file.
